


Cease to Be

by intothedeep27



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23856517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intothedeep27/pseuds/intothedeep27
Summary: Eskel saw just how broken Triss was, crumbling underneath a dark loneliness he knew all too well – but he was no Geralt, the one who still held the key to her heart and the dying embers of the once all-consuming fire she was known for. Yet, maybe, just maybe, he could be enough to save her from drowning in the memories of a lost love.
Relationships: Eskel/Triss Merigold, Triss and Eskel, Triss/Eskel
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Witcher or any characters and stories affiliated with it. All credit goes to CD Projekt and Andrzej Sapkowski.

**“...And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,** **  
** **That I shall never look upon thee more,** **  
** **Never have relish in the faery power** **  
** **Of unreflecting love—then on the shore** ****  
**Of the wide world I stand alone, and think** **  
** **Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.”**

_ When I Have Fears That I May Cease to Be,  _ John Keats

Eskel stared back at turquoise eyes, the loud shouting of celebration around them muted by her sudden appearance before him. He liked to think that he was a man of simple pleasures, not seeking the fame and fortune that seemed to follow Geralt wherever he went on the Path despite his brother’s complaints. So when Triss Merigold sat in front of him, eyes a little sad and what seemed to be a permanent frown on her face, a promise he once made to himself faltered about simple things in life.

...Just a little.

He once swore to never be used by the sorceress – or in fact,  _ any _ sorceress – again after the stunt she pulled in retaliation to Geralt breaking her heart, because when sorceresses and witchers became involved, it was never,  _ ever, _ simple. A lesson he learned and remembered, always.

But something about this time was different, wasn’t it? Somehow, they both knew that his brother would not be returning to her like he once did, that the air had a sense of finality to it, with the way Geralt was looking at Yennefer in the corner of the room, eyes bright with love and happiness in a way he had never seen before. It made sense he felt this way; Ciri was safe, the war had been won, and life would go on, and Geralt was Geralt, who was finally content with his life.

“Say again?” Eskel heard himself asking, amber cat eyes blinking at her. 

Triss began fidgeting with the amulet around her neck, biting her bottom lip. “I’m sorry about what I did to you, all those years ago.”

With a shake of his head, he said, “...I forgave you for that years ago. Besides, it wasn’t just your fault, I’m to blame for that too.” Which was the truth; while she may have seduced him, he could have just as easily turned her down, but he hadn’t. “You have nothing to apologize for.” He emphasized _ nothing _ .

“What I still did was wrong.”

With a swig of ale, Eskel looked to the ceiling with a heavy sigh before turning back to her. “What do you want from me, Triss? You obviously aren’t seeking the company of a man like me without a hidden motive.”

“What? Of course, I am – I...I just, I want to be your friend again?” She grimaced at her own stumbling of words but continued, “I mean, when we were all at Kaer Morhen training Ciri, we were good friends, weren’t we?” She twirled her cup of ale as she quietly said, “I miss that.”

There was silence between them for a moment as the words registered in his head and with every passing second he went without responding, he saw her shoulders fall further down, her eyes darkening with something he was a little too worried about. “...Well, I hate to break it to you, but I thought we were already friends, Merigold. I’m actually a little hurt that you thought otherwise,” he teased, forcing a smile. Truthfully, his heart still thumped a little harder, his stomach fluttering like a goddamn prince in those stupid fairytales when he was around her; but as he swore by, he was a man of little needs and wants, knew when to put others before himself, and this was one of those moments.

It was worth whatever heartbreak he’d feel in the future when Triss’s face lit up just the slightest, so he ignored the cracking of his own heart when he clinked his glass with hers.

0O0

Months passed and Eskel found himself in Kovir, having finished a contract and searching for a place to stop for the night when he smelled hints of wild rose and raspberries.

_ Triss _ .

Feeling a little stalkerish, he found himself following the perfume trail to an open market, where Triss’s fiery red hair stood out amongst the crowds, easily recognizable. Pushing through the people, he tapped on the sorceress’s shoulder when he reached her.

“Can I – Eskel!” With her arms wrapped around a bag, she smiled in place of a greeting. “What are you doing here?”

“Just finished a contract and was passing through when I saw you.” No need to say he caught her scent, even if that was not the weirdest thing he had ever said to her. 

“I’m–”

“If you’re not buying anything, then sod off! There’s people in line!”

_ Ah _ , yes – Eskel remembered exactly why he despised big cities like Pont Vanis and stuck to smaller villages in the countryside. People were particularly rude here, it seemed, and had no patience for anything. They hadn’t even been talking a minute and the man behind him was about ready to burst a vein.

He frowned at the outburst but kept silent as Triss quickly apologized, motioning to him to follow her. He did exactly so, even grabbing the bag she had in her hands as she led them away. They walked to her home while Triss spoke of the past few months with King Tankred and how the court was full of petty drama as Eskel quietly listened to her rant about her new position as a court advisor.

She hid her pain well but he saw through her facade. Where her smile could once light up an entire room, her voice either calming or terrifying whoever was at its end with her sapphire blue eyes sparkling with mischief, he saw none of that now. He knew when she was happy and carefree because she once  _ shined _ , nearly blinding him every time he had seen her.

They stopped at a door where Triss rummaged through her coat in search of its key. “Give me a second, I know I have it here somewhere…” she mumbled but after a few seconds, she groaned. He stayed silent, a raised eyebrow his only response, as she said, “I forgot the key at the library earlier – damn it. But it’s okay, I have an extra – right – here!” She stuck her hand underneath a flowerpot, pulling out a second key, and in seconds unlocked her home.

Eskel simply snorted and held the door open for her as she returned the key to where she hid it. “The great sorceress Triss Merigold, Merigold the Fearless, cleverly hiding the key to her home underneath the single flowerpot by the door,” he teased.

“Yeah yeah, shut up” she muttered, grabbing the bag in his hands as she walked in. 

Happy with the friendly jab, he looked around her home, leaving Triss to put away whatever it was she bought today. But the somewhat happy mood he found himself in disappeared the more he observed the room, replaced by a frown that seemed to deepen the longer he stared. Her home was...cold, barely a home at all; it was bland and bare, no signs of personal items like paintings and whatnot.

How long had it been since everyone parted ways – seven, eight months – and this was where she lived, alone? 

“I don’t really have anything to eat here but there’s a tavern nearby I go to.” Triss walked out of the kitchen, looking at Eskel leaning against the door, out of place with his armor and swords. She wasn’t blind to the look of displeasure on his face and she knew the culprit was her home, but she ignored that and walked forward. He returned her gaze but seemed...uncomfortable now, but Triss could never be sure with the witcher. “Do you...want to go?”

Eskel, on the other hand, ignored the itch from his scar and smirked. “I’ve been on the road all day, I’m starving. Of course, I’d love to eat dinner with you.”

Once again, with Triss in the lead, Eskel followed beside her silently, the air between them somewhat awkward, but just as she said the tavern was just around the corner. In a matter of minutes, they were sitting at a table, a glass of ale in both their hands as the room was filled with music, stories, and laughter, none of which originated from where they sat.

Triss was playing with her amulet again – a nervous habit she had – as he tilted his head, silently observing the woman before him. She didn’t notice his staring, for which he was grateful for. A part of him told him to stay away; her problems weren’t his and the last time he helped a sorceress he had gotten his heart broken. But longer he sat at the table, the more he knew he couldn’t leave her like this, a broken shell of her former self. He wondered what was going through the sorceress’s head right now.

“You okay?”

Triss jolted out of her thoughts at the question, her eyes clearing just a little. A simple question with a simple answer: yes or no?

The reality was that Triss was nowhere near okay but Eskel didn’t need to know that. She didn’t want to bother him about the letter she received from Dandelion, about Geralt and Yennefer’s travels in Toussaint, about how they’ve settled down in Corvo Bianco and how they’re  _ happy and how she missed–  _

“...Yeah, I’m fine.”

She wasn’t fooling anyone though, she knew that. Instead, she absentmindedly took a sip of her drink, ignoring the slight burn of the alcohol as her thoughts went to the witcher – but not the one sitting with her. She couldn’t help but remember when she was happier, when a certain white-haired witcher had chosen her to be with, when her heart felt ready to explode from how happy she had been. Amber eyes staring at her with what she thought was sympathy when she tried to kiss him, the fireworks exploding above– 

The room suddenly felt too hot and small; she couldn’t be here, she needed to leave.

“ _ I can’t _ –” Triss suddenly bolted up from her chair and placed a few coins on the table. “I’m sorry,” she rasped out to her unfortunate companion, her voice small and rough, turquoise eyes shined with tears as she practically ran out of the tavern, leaving the witcher alone. 

Not surprised, Eskel ignored the disgusted and terrified looks he got as he paid for his own drink, quickly following after the sorceress. 

He found her sitting on the steps of her home, face in her hands with her shoulders shaking. Eskel silently sat beside her as she sobbed, which she took as an invitation to throw herself around him. His arms wrapped around her automatically as she cried, patiently supporting her through her sadness.

They stayed like this for a while, long enough for the moon to be shining high above them by the time her cries turned to sniffles. He gently peeled her away to look at her; her eyes were red and puffy, cheeks splotchy from the tears as something in her eyes seemed a little too muted. “Let’s go in.” Leading them into her home, he sat her down by the fireplace and quickly lit it with a spell; the nights weren’t that cold but Triss looked ready to fall apart, shivering in her clothes.

He remained kneeling by the fire, an arm resting on one leg when he turned to her. Triss had a distant look to her eyes that he could easily deduce was related to a certain witcher and her current emotional state. Without scaring her, he put aside his weapons and sat beside her, taking her hands into his scarred ones. Hoping to somewhat comfort her, he began to rub her knuckles as she continued staring into the fire, the dancing of flames reflected on the shadows of her face.

“I’m such poor company nowadays, Eskel. I’m sorry,” she apologized, looking down at their hands. 

“Us Witchers are no better, you know that.”

Silence permeated the air as Triss lifted their joined hands, now her rubbing his knuckles. She felt the typical shocking sensation of magic that radiated from Eskel, so much more than any other Witcher she had ever touched, and this feeling somewhat centered her, reeling her back from her earlier thoughts as she turned to face him. 

He looked at her with so much compassion, but never pity. While everyone always tiptoed around her, worried that every word said would make her think back to Geralt, Eskel, he would always smile at her, never pitying her from the heartbreak of her own doing.  _ Why _ ? She didn’t deserve the looks of warmth he gave her, didn’t he know that? 

...Yet here he was beside her, trying to help her through fallen tears for a man that would never love her again.

With a sudden determination brewing in her chest, she released his hands from her grasp and placed a palm on his chest, her eyes suddenly clear with something he couldn’t quite read. 

“Merigold.”

With her other hand, Triss gently grazed the large scar on his face, her fingers feeling the stubble that was beginning to grow. Then, he suddenly grabbed her wrist. The air around them was charged with tension and he was not oblivious to this.

“This isn’t a good idea,” Eskel heard himself say, voice deep and unsure. 

“Why not?” she countered, voice sharp, as she looked at their hands before turning back to him. “What’s wrong with this?” He remained silent, refusing to respond when she suddenly threw her leg over his lap to straddle him. Eskel’s hands betrayed him as they automatically let her go to support her, now resting along her hips, her eyes looking at him with an intense desire. “I want to feel something,  _ anything _ . I’m tired of feeling dead inside,” she whispered, her face growing closer to his. “We’re both a little broken, aren’t we?”

This was a bad idea.

“Please.”

This was a horrible idea.

_ “Eskel. _ ”

Triss captured his lips with her own and he knew he was fucked.

Eskel returned her kiss, tasting the salt of her tears on her mouth, his hands now resting along her lower back to push the two closer. When she pulled back just a little, he gently wiped away the tears that escaped again, his hand against the side of her face as they paused, breathless, staring deep into each other’s eyes. Her hands ran through his hair as they returned to their kiss, the minutes ticking by before he moved his mouth down to her neck, her moaning as she ignited beneath his touch. 

Then, with no warning, he lifted her up with a squeal as her legs wrapped around him, carrying her to the bedroom. Laying her down on the bed, he leaned above her and looked at her with her hair a little wild and spread out against the sheets, reminiscent of the flames she was so well known for.

Damn, she was  _ beautiful _ .

Triss’s thumb tracing his cheekbone, there was a sadness to both their smiles as he leaned back down, entrapping her lips with his own. For a while, that was all until she suddenly rolled them over, him on his back, her straddling him once more.

She began to kiss him more intensely, her hands along the side of his face as she did so. She quickly moved her hands to his armor when he suddenly grabbed them, forcing her to pull back with a whine. It took all his willpower to stop what they were doing, but...“Are you sure, Merigold?” his voice husky with desire but the last thing he wanted was to do something she wasn’t sure about.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Hours later with Triss asleep on his chest, Eskel found himself awake, staring at the ceiling as he lightly traced circles on her naked shoulder. The sun was barely rising as he sighed; he was deep in thought, his foremost concern was what had occurred between them.

The way Triss had looked at him, a little broken just like he was, he knew he couldn’t have turned her down like he thought he could. She needed someone – anyone, really – to be in the position where he was; a companion, a lover, a friend. Someone to be there for the sorceress, to listen and lend a shoulder to cry on. From here on out, whatever she would need, he knew he would be there for just because of how much she meant to him. And if that meant he would find himself hurt,  _ again _ , heartbroken and confused, then... 

“What are you thinking about, witcher?” Triss grumbled, her voice rough with sleep. Her eyes remained closed as she snuggled into his arms, only to freeze when he sighed.

“I’m thinking that I think I need to leave soon,” he responded, a yawn involuntarily leaving his lips. He gently ran his hands through her tangled hair, still looking at the ceiling. For a while, she didn’t respond – he almost thought she had fallen asleep, but he was a witcher; she couldn’t fool him. 

But he stayed in bed for a little while longer, the warmth of her body relaxing his aching muscles, until the sun was a little higher, signaling the time. He tried to untangle their legs but frowned when she refused to move. “Merigold, I have another contract.”

Triss finally turned her eyes to his and the blue were guarded, shielding her thoughts from him. “I…” Her brows furrowed, almost as if she was going to say something, but she disappointingly remained silent and simply nodded, finally letting him go. 

Eskel slowly sat up with his back to her, stretching, when he felt warm hands tracing the scars on his back.

“This one’s new.” 

“I got that chasing down an ekimmara a few months back,” he grumbled. Finding his trousers, he quickly put them on before sitting back down on the bed to tie his boots. Triss interrupted him, suddenly wrapping her arms around his chest and resting her chin on his shoulder. 

“Eskel?” He grunted in response, looking at her. “When will I see you again?” she asked and damn those eyes, he couldn’t look away. 

Clenching his jaw for a moment, he thought about it for a second before saying, “I took a contract here in Kovir.” Then, before he could stop himself, the words he didn’t want to say left his mouth: “I’ll be back, if you, uh, want.”

Yet, this response seemed to make Triss happy because she smiled and nodded; not those big ones he once saw long long ago, but a small one, enough to reveal the small dimple on the sides of her cheek. It took all his willpower to not capture those lips with his own but he held back, feeling just a little less warm when she finally let him go, allowing him to finish getting ready to leave.

The sun was even higher in the sky when he stood at the door, Triss following closely behind. He turned his eyes down and saw her looking nervous, hair still a little messy from the night’s activities. “I promised I’d be back, didn’t I?” he said, knowing that it was so wrong to say that, yet felt so right.

“You  _ did  _ promise me.” Triss suddenly wrapped her arms around him before pulling away just as quickly, and Eskel hated the way she looked at him. A little confused, a little happy – he was just a sad excuse for a replacement for his brother. He knew this, she knew this, but here he was, standing by her door with a promise to return like the fool he was.

Quickly wanting to leave the weird tension in the air, Eskel began to move when a hand on his arm stopped him. A gentle finger traced the scar on his face as Triss said, “Be safe, Witcher.”

That was her goodbye and his cue to leave.

Triss watched the witcher walk out of her home, and when she could see him no more she closed her door, wrapping her arms around herself a little tighter as guilt threatened to overwhelm her.

Eskel was Eskel; handsome, a gentleman, a calming nature in comparison to the chaos that was his witcher brothers. What was she doing, using him, making him promise her something as foolish like that?

She had been so lonely and for him to…

It was unfair to the man for what she did to him because she knew how he felt about her – had always known. And here she was, selfishly using him for her own pleasures, unable to give him the one thing he didn’t know he wanted.

Last night as she laid in bed with him, his breaths telling her he was asleep, all Triss could remember was a different man in bed with different arms wrapped around her. Her thoughts, as usual, were occupied with that of the white-haired witcher, of how she missed him and his laughs, his stories and his jokes.

But Geralt was gone, forever out of her reach, and she was left in his past while he happily loved another.

Triss laid back down in her bed and curled into a ball and wept – for the man she still loved and for the loneliness that threatened to drown her in a sea of sadness.

0O0

Eskel found himself returning to Triss’s side, his stays gradually growing longer and longer in Kovir. It was nice, for a change, to wake up to a beautiful woman at his side, a stable place where he could let his guard down  _ just  _ a little bit. He didn’t have to keep an eye open as he slept, to have his weapons ready at a minutes notice – he could truly  _ sleep _ without a worry in the world.

And it seemed his presence made the sorceress a little happier, although at times he still saw her depression threatening to overwhelm her. During those days, he held her a little tighter, kissed her a little gentler. It was those nights where his own feelings got muddled with his actions, where he had to force himself to remember that she did not love him, not as he did, and that he was just a body to keep her warm during the cold nights.

This morning, he lingered in bed, knowing that the cold brisk morning air was a warning to him that winter was near. He would need to leave Kovir, find a place where he could stay for the cold months because Kaer Morhen was no more, not without Vesemir and his brothers – 

“Eskel?”

He blinked away those thoughts of his family, refusing to spiral back down into memories that made his heart ache a little more than usual, and turned to Triss. She sat at the edge of the bed, fully dressed for the day, and watched him with worry in her eyes.

He ignored his heart beating a little harder as he finally got out of bed. He could feel her eyes watching him as he stood up when she asked, “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine.” His voice was a little gruff due to the early morning, his hair a little unkempt as he tried to brush it down with his fingers. “Just realizing how cold it’s getting.”

“Oh...yeah, the court is planning their move to Lan Exeter in the next few weeks.”

“The winter capital, right?” he asked as he began to get dressed, grunting at the tough leathers that kept him alive. “I’m taking it that you’ll be joining them.”

“...Yeah.”

Sliding his weapons across his back, he saw her, still sitting at the bed, and sat beside her, bumping her shoulder with his. “Don’t look so sad,” he tried comforting

“You’ll be finding a place to stay for the winter, right?”

“Don’t worry about me, love.” Gently placing a hand against her cheek, he smiled. “You won’t miss my ugly face in the morning.”

“Eskel!” She narrowed her eyes as he chuckled, knowing she hated it when he spoke about himself as such. “You know that’s not true.”

“...You’ll be fine, okay?” Kissing her forehead, he stood up, grabbing his pack. “I’ll see you soon. These months will fly by.”

Triss followed Eskel to the door, bringing him down for a kiss as she whispered against his lips, her eyes bright with pain and confusion. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please ignore any errors, I just couldn’t get this pairing out of my mind. I just finished the video game (five years late, I know) and I was on Tumblr only to see a post about how the witcher novels hint at something between Eskel and Triss, and Andrzej Sapkowski even wrote a non-canon story about them as a couple. So that’s that. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed the story. Chapter two will be up soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Witcher or any characters and stories affiliated with it. All credit goes to CD Projekt and Andrzej Sapkowski.

**“...And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,**  
**That I shall never look upon thee more,**  
**Never have relish in the faery power**  
**Of unreflecting love—then on the shore**  
**Of the wide world I stand alone, and think**  
**Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.”**

_When I Have Fears That I May Cease to Be,_ John Keats

One morning, days before Eskel left Kovir for the winter, Triss remembered laying beside him with her head resting on his chest, finding comfort in the warmth and the steady heartbeat beneath her. He was holding her on this morning and she found herself tilting her head up, watching the witcher with sleepy eyes. He returned her gaze with a kind twinkle in his eye, the slight tilt of the corner of his mouth indicating the comfort he found at the moment.

“Good morning,” she whispered, afraid of ruining the moment.

“Good morning to you too, love,” he whispered back, kissing her forehead.

They remained in comfortable silence, relishing in the warmth that they brought each other when Triss felt the vibrations of a quiet groan beneath her. Frowning, she turned back and saw him clenching his eyes, a hand resting on his scar.

“What’s wrong?”

He remained silent for a while, long enough for Triss to presume that his silence and his large scar were in relation to one another, and it was a topic he was not to keen on broaching. Not wanting to force him into revealing anything, she opened her mouth to change the topic when he suddenly said, stopping her, “Do you know how I got this scar?”

Taken aback at the sudden mention of it, she shook her head. At this, Eskel let her go – she was saddened by the sudden lack of warmth – and shifted himself on the bed until he was sitting up, his back resting against the headboard. The blankets fell to his waist, leaving his chest bare.

“It was Destiny’s punishment, I guess,” he began with a dark chuckle, the aura in the room shifting to one of grief and anger. But Triss now sat beside him, silently holding his left hand in her lap as he continued. “Deidre Ademeyn, she was my surprise child.” _What? Surprise child?_ “She showed up at Kaer Morhen one day, years after I saved her father, a prince. After everything I’d done to avoid her and their kingdom, she was the one who sought me out. We housed her – Geralt, Lambert, Vesemir, and I – we trained her, gave her a place to stay, but her past caught up to her.” The back of his head now rested against the wall as he turned to the ceiling, body tense as he remembered a time decades ago. He brought his right leg up, letting his free arm resting on his knee in an attempt to find a comfortable position, but any resemblance to comfort eluded the man today. “She wasn’t an ordinary girl; she was a child born under an eclipse, inflicted with the Curse of the Black Sun. Or, at least, that’s what her enemies claimed.”

At those words, anger flared within Triss. That stupid prophecy; Triss had thought it ridiculous and had read about its victims. To her, those who were born to the curse were evil only due to their upbringing, being forced to become evil due to those around them. 

It was truly a sad fate for those girls who were born that day.

“She was also the heir to a kingdom. But her brother and a sorceress came for her, wanting to kill her for different reasons. Merwin, her brother, wanted the throne; Sabrina wanted her dead to inspect her corpse. So at the keep, we weren’t sure what to do; we had witnessed some of her outbursts, but to call her evil?” He shook his head. “We decided to protect her from them. We even got her to agree to renounce her claim on the crown, hoping to find a way out peacefully.”

“It didn’t happen, did it?” Triss asked when Eskel paused in his retelling.

To this, he nodded his head, eyes clenched shut as if remembering brought him great pain. “To this day, I can’t remember the details, but somehow she got into an argument with her brother and that sorceress, which resulted in a fight. She killed a dwarf that had accompanied them and went for the others – and when I tried to stop her, well,” he motioned to the scar on his face, “I got this.”

“What happened afterward?” 

“She ran off soon after. We couldn’t find her and for years, that was that. Life went on at Kaer Morhen. We never spoke of her again and I think they all knew it was a sore subject for me. But I guess...I never sought her out after she left because I knew she was out there, I could sense it. That was enough for me. I figured...she’d come back if she wanted to see me again, you know? But one day…I couldn’t sense her anymore. I couldn’t explain it – it was a feeling like no other. One day, she was there in the back of my mind, present and alive, and the next, gone. Just like that.” He finally turned to Triss and there was a dullness in his eyes that was eerily reminiscent of her own when she looked in a mirror. “Just... _gone_.”

Triss pulled Eskel into her arms. It was a move he was not expected but when he slowly lifted his arms, resting them around her, she knew it had been the right decision. His forehead fell against the crook of her neck, his arms tightening by the second. This was no longer a hug; it was him, hanging on for dear life before he fell too far, unable to be saved.

“I didn’t have the bond that Ciri has with Geralt but I’d like to think it was something similar.” Triss began to run a hand through his hair, her nails running against his scalp, as he began to shake in her arms. “She was my unexpected child and I...I failed her, Triss.” His voice broke at the end and the pain it bled hurt even her.

Eskel stayed silent afterward, almost as if he was trying to convince himself that he was, in fact, okay, when the reality was that he was not. So like he had always done for her in her moments of grief, Triss began to hum a soft tune, bringing him a little closer, and Eskel, in her arms, allowed himself to fall apart. All the thoughts and memories of his surprise child kept behind a wall released in a harsh wave, overwhelming even the witcher’s ability to keep calm under pressure. 

His tears were silent but his agony was not; the pain of Deidre was with him always, the way he had failed to save her. The scar on his face was forever a reminder to him of his neglect, of his refusal to recognize the child until it was too late. 

“I think I did love her, Triss.” 

“I think...I think you did, too.”

Eskel’s grip on her only tightened.

He was a little too broken, just like Triss was, so it was no surprise that they had found each other.

0O0

During Yule, Triss would find herself in a quaint village in Velen, helping the people of Midcopse. Typically, those in Velen did not treat her kind with a warm welcome, typically fearful of sorceresses due to the exaggerated rumors and stories that were spread about them. But instead, in what almost seemed almost a lifetime ago, they had helped hide her when she had been running from witch hunters and asking for nothing in return. People like them were a dying breed in this modern age, so caring to strangers when she, a witch, could have easily led to their ruin, so she made a promise to herself thereafter, swearing to return whenever she could. And she did – she helped where she could; brought gifts for the children, food for the families. It made her feel good, useful, the only positive thing going in her life.

Well, perhaps not the only thing, not anymore. While Geralt and her heartbreak still lingered in the back of her mind like the taste of bad ale, Eskel was now the other man that preoccupied her thoughts more often than not. He made Triss somewhat happy, stabilized her thoughts like the person she once was. Whether he knew it or not, he had helped her gain back a little confidence that she thought lost forever, helped mend some of the broken pieces of her shattered heart.

“Miss Merigold! You’re here!” 

The village people watched as she stepped out of the portal and when the ealdorman wrapped her into a hug, a smile tugged at her lips. She gladly returned the old man’s embrace and when he spoke of the past year, she allowed herself to forget all about her troubles, which was not as hard as she thought.

Once the excitement of her arrival settled down, Triss began to go around the village, mingling with the villagers and aiding in the preparations for the Yule feast. She helped put up the decorations, the women with dinner, the men with the fires, the children with their games. She found her cheeks hurting from the constant laughter and smiles, a feeling she had missed. 

It was when she was placing a flower crown on top of a little girl’s head when a scream rang out throughout the village, forcing Triss to stop what she was doing. Commanding the child to stay put, lest the scream be a result of an attack of some sort, she rushed over to where a crowd was forming around a horse, trying her best to figure out what was wrong.

“What happened?” she tried asked, pushing through the throngs of people.

Several voices answered her and several more were cries, preventing her from understanding anything being said until a loud, clear voice announced, “Silence! Let the sorceress through!”

Immediately the crowd parted for her. The moment her eyes laid on the horse and its silent rider at the end of the path before her, her mind barely processed what she saw; she heard her heart pounding in her ears, the people around her for a moment forgotten, before time suddenly rushed at her and forced a gasp from her.

“Eskel!” Triss cried out, running towards him. In the few seconds she wasted in a daze, some of the men brought the unconscious witcher down onto the ground, with Triss nearly falling against him in her haste to reach the injured man. “What happened – why is he here?” she demanded to those around her. 

“We had some trouble with our sheep an’ a monster, miss, put out a contract. This witcher here accepted it a few days ago; haven’t seen ‘im since!” someone said.

When she removed her hands from his chest, thick blood coated her palm. “Help bring him to where I’m staying.” Not a question, an order.

The seconds ticked by where Eskel was losing even more blood, the drops of it marking a stark path against the layer of white snow that enveloped the town. The door to the cottage they provided her slammed open as she cleared a table of things, telling the men to place him down onto it.

Triss only thought of one thing – to figure out what happened to her witcher and help him. Throwing open her trunk, she rummaged through it and pulled out herbs and potions meant to aid in healing and the regeneration of blood. 

Chaos ensued within this small cottage and the only one truly capable of helping, she enlisted; the local herbalist who knew enough about healing that she was not a burden. The others, she forced out, not needing the distraction. The herbalist, Emma was her name, helped Triss remove Eskel’s armor, stripping the man until he was only wearing his undergarments. Still profusely bleeding from the wound on his stomach, the injury itself was deep and inflamed while Eskel himself was pale and clammy, perspiration lining his forehead with his brows furrowed in pain, his body subconsciously reacting to the pain.

“How’s...he still alive, Miss?” Emma whispered, handing Triss the items she needed. Blood dripped into a small puddle on the floor, leaking from the cracks in the wood from the table. 

“He’s a witcher, that’s how.” Then, grumbling to herself, “Doesn’t mean he’s immortal, the goddamn idiot.”

There were only a few words spoken then on, for hours had passed by without notice when finally, _finally_ , Triss took a step back with Emma doing the same, knowing that they did all they could and it was now up to Eskel if he made it through the night. 

Emma simply squeezed Triss’s shoulder before she left, leaving her alone with Eskel. Day had turned into night by then, and she carefully levitated him to the small bed in the corner of the room. Pulling up a chair to the side, Triss sat down, her hands wringing together as she was racked with worry for the man beside her.

Although she was able to stitch the wound back up, Triss was no stranger to the effects of poisoning and recognized immediately that whatever monster that had stabbed Eskel had infected him with something. Yet, without knowing exactly what monster he had fought, she was forced to give the witcher a potion to flush out _all_ poison from the body instead, making it harder for the body to process the other potions that were also there to save his life.

Yet, as she had thought earlier, there was nothing more Triss could do now besides staying beside her friend – _friend, lover, companion; he was all of these yet not_ – as her mind and body slumped over, exhausted from the day’s events.

Four agonizingly long days passed before Eskel’s fever broke. 

Another day would pass before Triss forced herself to leave his bedside, comfortable enough with asking Emma to watch over him in her stead. With a gentle kiss to Eskel’s forehead, she gathered his witcher gear, blood cleaned from the leathers, and left the cottage. Outside, the festivities of Yule still continued, albeit with less excitement due to the near-dead witcher – but there was something in the air this morning, it would seem, that even Triss was not oblivious too. The people were walking with a hop in their step, mingling amongst each other a little more than yesterday. Before long, music began to play throughout the village as celebrations began anew.

Her heart a little lighter, she walked to the edge of the village to the only blacksmith and armorer in the area.

“Ah, Miss Merigold!” the older man greeted her. 

“ _Fergus_ ,” she warmly responded. “I was wondering if you could fix the witcher’s armor?” she inquired, handing over the armor to the man. He quickly looked over the damages in the leather with a quiet hum, a few moments of silence passing before he rubbed his neck with an answer. “I dunno...” Then, he began to run a hand through his beard, lips pursed at her question. “I could mend it as best I could but you’re gonna have to find a journeyman or master armorer for better repairs.”

“Just do the best you can, I’ll cover any expenses.”

“I’ll start immediately then.” 

With a nod and a handshake, they parted ways, the sounds of fires and metalwork ringing out behind her. 

Triss’s next stop was at the stables to take care of Scorpion; the horse, clearly worried for its master and distrustful of strangers – just like said master – refused to let a soul near him. Although he tolerated her presence enough, it seemed, and allowed only her to take care of him. On this morning, she began to brush the black horse, breakfast already fed, humming a tune that she once heard somewhere. It was no surprise in this moment of peace that the events of the past few days finally hit her, causing her heart to waver, the worry she felt for Eskel finally reaching its limits as she felt the telltale burning of tears behind her eyes – but she forced them at bay, refusing to let a tear escape in public.

Eskel…whenever she had thought about the last time she had seen him, almost two months ago, she felt only confusion at what her heart wanted. She enjoyed her time with him greatly; he was a great conversationalist despite him saying otherwise, and he was always so attentive to her. He gave more than she could give, expecting nothing in return and stayed by her side, always, no matter the horrible things she may have said to him in the heat of their arguments. 

She had missed him. 

Greatly.

And now, months later, when he practically was thrown at her, injured, life ebbing away with every beat of his heart, she was forced to open her eyes to the extent of how deep her fondness for the man ran. It was much more than she had even anticipated and this worried her greatly; the last time she felt something like this, it had been with…

 _No_ , _stop_ , she refused to let her mind go there. If there was anything in the world that Eskel did not deserve, it was to be compared to his brother. They were far more different than alike and Triss refused to do him the disservice by comparing the two to each other.

With her mind and heart at war, Triss was distracted, and when the stablehand ran in, eyes wide with panic, she nearly yelped in surprise.

“Johnny, you scared–”

“He’s awake.”

For a split second, she froze at these words before her heart _soared_. Quickly shoving the brush in his hands, Scorpion forgotten, she sprinted out of the stables and reached her cottage in record time. At the door, she could hear a commotion brewing between the herbalist and her stupid witcher, with the latter trying to get up.

“Please, you need to stay still–”

Throwing open the door, Triss hid her worry for Eskel behind a glare. “Eskel, you stupid _stupid man_.” She rushed forward as the herbalist stepped aside. Eskel only looked at her with shock, mouth hanging open and amber eyes wide, his mind running blanks on what to say at the sudden appearance of the sorceress. He attempted to sit up again, only to bite back a yelp from the extreme pain that erupted from his side.

At this, Triss placed her hand against his chest, gently pushing him down. “I need to look at your wounds, so stay _still_ .” Eskel did not want to listen, it seemed. He continued in his attempt to sit up but after the third attempt, Triss snapped with frustration, “What about those words do you not understand? You’re going to tear your stitches and I refuse to sit here and watch my hard work get wasted because _you_ refuse to listen to me!”

Eskel, although weak from his fever and injury, quickly saw just how distressed she was, finally relented and laid down on the bed. Although there were so many questions he wanted to ask, he remained silent instead, allowing her to rub a healing salve onto his wound before wrapping him back up. Once all was done in a few short minutes, she sat down beside him in the chair, holding his hand. He turned his head to the side to watch the sorceress.

“Why…?” Eskel finally asked, his voice scratchy from days without use.

Triss’s eyes were hidden behind her hair when she answered. “You...you showed up on Scorpion’s back, bleeding out. If anyone had questions, I’d say it’s _me_.” The intensity in her words faded though when she said after a pause, “...Eskel, I was so worried. I thought you were going to– to…” 

“I’m sorry, love.” These words were all he could say and he hoped – prayed, even – that it conveyed all he felt; gratitude, relief, joy, and these only skimmed the surface of what he truly felt for the woman beside him. 

With a sob, Triss brought his hand to her lips and kissed it, moving the chair closer. “I thought you were going to die, you idiot, and all you say is sorry?” When she finally looked up, her beautiful eyes shined with unshed tears. Yet, what threw the witcher off, though, was the sad smile that adorned her face. “I’m just glad you’re okay. That’s...that’s all that matters. Tell me what happened.”

With a gulp, Eskel ignored the pounding in his chest as he quietly recounted what happened to Triss, from the day he left Kovir to what led him down here in Velen to take on the contract on the monster. For about an hour he spoke before he felt himself yawning, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He tried to stay awake because he had so much to tell her, so much he needed to stay, but his attempts to keep his eyes opened failed.

Before Eskel knew it, he succumbed to asleep, the ghost of a kiss on his forehead the last thing he could remember.

By the end of the week, Eskel’s wound was healing as well as a wound of that caliber could, and he was able to stand up and walk around without too much pain. He was still limping, hating that he needed Triss to be able to quickly walk around anywhere, but he knew he did not have much to complain. He was lucky, Triss said, because of his accelerated healing. Had he been a regular human, he would have simply bled out before reaching help.

“What are you going to do now?” Triss asked on her final day in Midcopse, sitting across from Eskel as the festivities all around them continued. The stars shined all around, the moon hanging high above them. 

He shifted in his seat, trying to find a position that would not aggravate his injury, and grimaced. The scar on his face exaggerated the expression though, resulting in a few of the children behind her to gasp in fear. Her heart hurt from this, not finding Eskel’s scar to be as scary as those around her claimed it was, but he gave no reaction to their fear. He simply shrugged at the face she had made, telling her it did not bother him. He even joked that it helped on the Path, keeping people away – _the idiot_.

“I’m not too sure. The people here, they’re nice and all, but once you leave I’ll have to find a new place to go. Don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

He took a bite of the bread on his plate, silently watching the sorceress. In the two months he had been away, an air of awkwardness had developed between them that he could not figure out the reason to. Was it him? Had he said something to her when he was delirious with pain? 

Their eyes met and Eskel felt a jolt go through him at the intensity she looked at him with. Her turquoise eyes were hidden with an emotion he could not decipher – _or perhaps refused to decipher, anyways_ – as anxiety gnawed at the back of his mind. What was happening? Was...was she finally done with him? Was this moment their last together?

He had known this day was coming but he had foolishly expected she would still need more time–

“Do you want to come back to Lan Exeter with me?”

He inhaled a piece of bread and it lodged in the back of his throat at her sudden question, cat eyes wide with shock as he fell into a coughing fit. Triss, too, was taken aback at this reaction, quickly leaned forward and began hitting his back to help him in his choking fit. 

“W-What?” he finally asked, his voice small and breathy as she pulled away. “You– I–”

She nodded but her body was tight with tension and anxiety. “I...I miss you,” Triss quietly added, hugging herself. “And when I thought you were dying, all I could think about was how I never got to say those words to you.”

“I…” Words eluded the witcher, his voice failing him.

Although they were claimed to be emotionless due to their mutations, Triss knew better. Sometimes, witchers were far more emotional than humans but in a way that most would not recognize. It was only after years of knowing them that Triss could get a read on their emotions, and although she would not claim she saw through their masks completely, she saw enough. And so, she saw the conflict raging in his eyes, the hope and fear hidden underneath a mask of wariness. 

Which was to be expected, she knew.

“I...I can’t.”

“You won’t be bothering me if that’s what you’re worried about,” Triss muttered. “Besides, that wound on your stomach, it won’t be completely healed for a few more weeks, maybe even months. If you do anything too extreme, you’ll tear it.”

“I’ve been through worse alone, Merigold–”

“–But it doesn’t mean you should!” This time, she felt the anger at his own disregard for healing lace her words. “I’m saying this because I’m worried!”

And Eskel, poor Eskel, out of all the words to have left Triss’s mouth today, the combination of the last few rendered the man speechless. 

But the man was also emotionally stunted, like many of his other brethren that they both knew, and in response to her questions, he slid a cool mask of indifference on that even Triss was unable to see underneath. This added to the growing worry in her chest that was bordering on another heartbreak, especially if she was not careful. 

“I can’t do that, Triss–” He called her by her first name, which signaled to them both that whatever that had occurred between them in the past five minutes had crossed into uncertain territory for them both– “I won’t stay with you. You deserve better than me and I don’t think you really mean the offer. I’m not–” 

He stopped himself before the name left his mouth but the damage was done; like always, Triss was forced to recall a certain white-haired witcher. 

With a growl, she shot up from her seat in a rage. “Fine. Do whatever you want then – _I don’t care anymore_. You can stay injured for all I care.” Venom dripped from her voice, the glare she gave him reminiscent of a blaze that would have burned him to the ground had she used her magic.

She stormed off, leaving Eskel alone at the table with the stares of the villagers all around him making him shift uncomfortably in his seat, her words ringing in his head. Yet, he could not leave, as the place he was currently sleeping in roomed Triss as well.

“ _Fuck_.” He slammed his head into the table, cursing himself at his own stupidity. Here Triss was, offering him to stay at her side for the remainder of the winter, and he refused in fear.

Fear? Fear of what? Even he wasn’t too sure what he was afraid of. Was it Geralt? Was it his love for the red-haired witcher?

Both?

...Gods, he was an _idiot_.

Emma had told him how Triss refused to leave his side when he was unconscious, afraid for every second that passed he would not get better. Hell, even now she hovered over him with worry, hands poking and prodding at him with every waking moment. Once, he would have found this annoying...but now he found it to be endearing.

But Eskel could never move on his feelings for Triss, he did not want to take advantage of their relationship like that. He knew she was confused, her heart still in pain from Geralt and her heartbreak...but in these past few months together and the two apart, had something changed? Was he simply too blind to notice?

Maybe– 

No.

He needed to talk to her.

Clenching his jaw, Eskel knew what to do. As fast as he could in his current state, he carefully stood up and followed after his sorceress, his steps now fueled by a sudden burning of determination in his chest. Snow began to lightly fall around him but he ignored this, the burning pain he felt that was not just a result of the wound on his stomach pushing him even faster.

“Triss!” he called out to her. She ignored him, slamming the door to the cottage before he could reach her. He rushed to the door and knocked, even trying the handle, but to no surprise he found it locked. Again, with his fist pounding at the door, saying, “Please, I want to talk.”

“I don’t,” he heard, voice muffled but still clear enough for him to hear the tears Triss was hiding. “Leave me alone.”

“No.” His forehead fell against the door, a palm against the wood. “I won’t leave.” _Not this time_.

Eskel heard footsteps a few minutes later, forcing him a few steps back. Watching the door slowly open, he felt his heart clench at the sadness that Triss radiated. He wasn’t blind; it hurt him to know that this time, the cause behind her cries was no fault but his own, a result of his own stupidity and lack of confidence.

“Leave me alone, Eskel.”

Shaking his head, he said firmly, “No.” His hands balled into fists as a continuous, painful throbbing from his abdomen reminded him why he was here. “I...I think we should talk about this.” With his hands, he motioned between them. “Whatever this…is...” His voice died out at the look she gave him.

So open and raw, so hurt and broken...this was the woman that he loved. He had been so certain she would not reciprocate his feelings, that he was just a body to her, but maybe he had been wrong?

A lump formed in his throat, preventing him from saying anything stupid.

“I know...I know I’m still healing,” Triss’s voice quavered. “I won’t say I’m a hundred percent okay and you know this too, don’t you? But when I’m with you, I feel happier, like the pain in me doesn’t hurt as bad.” She slowly went over to where he stood, the flurry of small snowflakes all around them, every cold breath fogging the air between them. They stared at each other for a few seconds and while one hand remained on her chest, wrapped around her amulet, Triss lifted her other, gently placing her palm against the side of Eskel’s face. He forced himself to stay still, to not nuzzle against her palm like he always did. “I want you to know that you’re not a replacement. You’re not just a warm body in bed, a person to talk to. You’re so much...more, so much more than words can explain and when I think about you...I feel a warmth in my chest, I feel like I’m home. _That’s_ why I asked if you wanted to join me at Lan Exeter. I didn’t out of obligation or because I’m confused – it’s because, for the first time in a _very_ long time, I’m in control of what I feel.” She wanted to hide, feeling so emotionally raw, but she forced herself to voice the inner thoughts she typically kept hidden. “I don’t love Geralt, Eskel; _I love_ _you_.”

Eskel felt the hope in his chest burning at these words, trying to break free from the control he thought he had kept it under. _If this was the truth_ – “I can’t be hurt again, Triss,” he warned, recalling a time at Kaer Morhen, years and years ago. “And I don’t have it in me to hurt someone that I love–” He froze, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop himself. Even Triss seemed taken aback but instead of contempt, instead of the guilt he had expected her to look at him with, instead, her eyes warmed as she nodded, motioning him to go on. “... _I can’t_ – _I can’t hurt_ someone I love again.”

“I know _._ ” 

And hope, the traitorous thing, finally escaped from the bonds Eskel had painstakingly forced upon it, bleeding into his veins a burning desire to kiss Triss, to hug her, to pull her into his arms and never let go. It warmed his cold body, forcing him to _hope_ that the woman before him felt the same as he did. 

“...I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m no good at this.”

It was then that a quiet but happy chuckle left Triss’s mouth. “You think I’m any better?” 

He snorted in response before placing a hand over hers, releasing a shaky breath that revealed the true extent of the witcher’s nervousness. Here, at this moment, Eskel opened his entire self to her, entrusting only her with his body and soul, knowing that if she broke him, he would be no more; she would be his downfall, his Achilles heel. A vulnerability that all witchers were told never to reveal or develop, this was something more than love; it was something indescribable, a connection to someone that cracked open his emotionless, witcher heart to complete and total understanding.

Triss saw this and accepted, and unlike her past memories of what she thought was love, she now knew it was nothing in comparison to the intensity of emotions she felt now. Eskel saw her for who she was, never shied away from her bad or good, accepted all that she was, even the parts of her she hid away from most people. He accepted; he _loved_. It made her want to be the best version of herself, a version that had never truly existed until now.

What he gave her, she willingly gave back tenfold.

Slowly leaning down, Eskel touched Triss’s forehead with his own, a small, content smile on both their faces that symbolized their love for one another. Shutting their eyes and holding each other closely, the moon became a witness to the burning love between the witcher and sorceress, the snowfall dancing in the moonlight.

“...You know, I really like it when you call me _love_.”

“I know.” With a very Eskel-like smirk, he said, “That’s why I do it, _love_.”

They were two broken people, who, together, were just a little less broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was good. I’m kinda nervous posting this, especially with this ending, but I gave all I could. I like the way I ended it but at the same time, I hope it wasn’t too...sudden? I tried really hard to make sure that Eskel and Triss weren't too OOC, so hopefully, I succeeded. Also, thank you to SKJC for your comment, I hope you enjoy this chapter too :)


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